


Moving On

by winglesswarrior



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglesswarrior/pseuds/winglesswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not about making out. There's somewhere else to go for that. It's about something else. Stiles just isn't sure what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> The title is awful. I apologize for that. 
> 
> Beta'd by me. Enjoy some fluff. Through season 3 spoilers of sorts. This takes place just at the end of Season 3.

It was always bizarre the way they all just moved forward. Derek always found that strange. Maybe he was just better at holding a grudge. That wasn’t entirely accurate though. He could practically hear Stiles say it in that matter-of-fact way like he did when he knew he was dead right. Derek held grudges, lingered on things, but these days he was the king of second chances. Ignoring, no, forgiving things, that should be unforgivable, doling out advice for people, trying to be what mostly amounts to a better man, just to see if he could convince the one person who mattered to give him a second chance. That’s what Stiles would say. Stiles would have figured everything out, seen the way he and Argent of all people were working together, like there hadn’t been multiple instances of them trying to kill one another. He’d have noticed the way he pushed the twins to be better, to be more human, so they could join up with Scott and not be left on their own. The way he’d given Peter yet again another shot at being family, clinging to what was left.

South America had done a number on him. Damn Cora.

The funny thing about it, although it might not be funny to anyone but him, was that Stiles didn’t notice those things. Stiles hadn’t noticed anything. He had a viable excuse, sure, but Derek was fully aware of what he’d been doing when he was looking for the younger guy. He’d been trying to save him. To get that part of his life back, the part that noticed things. Trying to save his chance at pack because while Scott only believed Derek when people were about to die, Stiles always seemed to put more faith in him, especially lately. Somewhere they’d turned a corner in the constant battle to save one another and wound up not hating each other. It wasn’t news to Derek that Stiles knew some the darker secrets of his past, that Peter and Cora had blabbed. It wasn’t lost on Derek that he’d been searching for Stiles for days; enlisting help he didn’t need, trying not to be mad at the guy because it wasn’t the guy doing those things. The annoying twit had become a gaping hole in his life and if his dreams were any indicator, this was the exact person he needed to talk to. Right now.

Stiles wasn’t better either. He was pretending. Derek had seen him, with Scott, with some new girl who smelled like the woods and seemed to stare at Stiles like she’d never seen a guy before though he hardly noticed. Most of his wounds had healed, but he was still less than himself.

Death.

Derek could smell it. Sitting on Stiles’ bed, the scent still lingered, like part of Stiles was dead which he guessed was true. The murmurs were that he remembered. That he remembered everything he’d done even if it hadn’t been Stiles doing it. There’d been questions from the cops too and Derek knew for sure that Stiles had spent some hours at the station being asked a million of them. Nothing really came together case wise, which might have been a little bit of Scott’s dad’s doing and might have been some of Stiles’ dad’s doing. Either way, Stiles walked out without being arrested, but Derek knew it probably wasn’t over.

When the door opened Derek got up, looking at the teenager who seemed to do a double take, looking at Derek, then the door, then back again. “Isn’t this the part where you push me into the door?”

Derek shook his head and Stiles shrugged looking almost disappointed. Like that might have been what he wanted. Stiles dropped his bag on the bed and moved closer to Derek, shrugging again. “What are you doing here?”

“How are you?” Derek blurted, not meaning to start with that. He wasn’t really the small talk type, but he found himself actively worried about the guy in front of him. He looked paler. His room was different than it had been when he’d gone looking for him. Things pulled from the wall and shoved into a full trashcan, bed made neatly like he was trying to prove something or he hadn’t been sleeping in it.

Stiles looked confused and shook his head. “Fine. Creeped out a touch. I didn’t think we were drop in my room to check on me bros. Especially after I threw you into a wall recently. Which I’m sorry about.”

“It wasn’t you,” Derek corrected, but Stiles held up a hand to cut him off.

“It was enough me. I was there. I felt it.” He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against them for a full moment and Derek practically felt the anguish going through them. He’d been there hadn’t he? He’d done his own collection of terrible things and he didn’t even have the possession part to explain himself with. He was just about to say something along those lines, trying to find the right words before Stiles dropped his hands and found a fake smile. “So what’s up?”

Derek tilted his head then wound up nodding, letting Stiles have the lie. That must be why Scott went with it. They’d gone through that scary part where they both thought Stiles would die. That he’d lose his mind the same way Stiles’ mother had and they weren’t talking about the dark parts now. Stiles was going to be okay and it was easier to pretend he already was. “I had a dream. Though it wasn’t really a dream. It was a dream of a memory.”

Stiles made a face. “I’m tired of dreams,” he started.

“You were in it,” Derek interjected before Stiles could blow him off. It had the right effect, catching Stile’s attention as he crossed his arms over his chest and took on his thinking pose. The same one he’d had in the dream.

“I was? Did I do anything interesting?”

“You told me it was a dream. But I thought I was awake. Should have guessed I wasn’t, not sure why I’d be in the locker room with you otherwise.”

“This is starting to sound like a sex dream.”

Derek glared and Stiles held his hands up in mock surrender. “It was not a sex dream. If it’s right, if I wasn’t dreaming, or dreaming at the time, it’s real. She’s real. And we have a huge problem.”

“She?”

“Kate.”

~~~~

When Derek left the room felt colder. Stiles almost stopped him, asked him to stick around, to just loiter or hang out or something, but they weren’t really friends and that wasn’t quite right. He looked at his phone for someone to call, knowing he should call Scott and talk to him about what Derek had said. What they thought was coming. They should get started on that. He would get started on that, just not right away.

Stiles stared at a text from Lydia, someone who he’d liked to hang out with but she was pretending she wasn’t completely distraught about Aidan dying because even if they weren’t a serious thing, they were a thing. Worse than that, the other version of him had kidnapped her and she twitched around him a little. Not much, no one else would notice, but Stiles a little more in tune to Lydia than everyone else. He was used to noticing every tiny detail. That one stood out. She’d lost Jackson to his ego after telling him how much she loved him and Aidan to Stiles and his doing or his susceptibility to being possessed whatever it was. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye and she wasn’t the person to call when he was feeling lonely. They’d be faking it. They needed time.

Malia was an option but she seemed to have two things on her mind: turning into a coyote again and sticking her tongue down Stiles’ throat. Not that he was opposed to that. He wasn’t. It just felt…forced. And he didn’t want to hang out with someone just to make out. This wasn’t a distraction thing. It was person thing. He needed someone else there. He stared at his computer, his phone, back and forth for half an hour before he closed the laptop and got up, grabbing it and his backpack, shoving things together on his way out the door.

~~~

Being in the loft wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Derek needed to get a new place. Of course the last two places weren’t real places, this one had rent and a door and all that, but he didn’t feel right. Too many people had died here or been maimed here. There were bloodstains on the floors that just hadn’t come out yet. Some of it, most of it, was his blood. Maybe he could move somewhere else. Somewhere normal.

He’d been brooding over it, eyeing the last bloody mark he’d left on the floor when the door opened and a head peeked in.

“Everyone decent?”

Derek looked up at Stiles confused and crossed his arms over his chest. “I live alone.” Mostly. Peter loitered sometimes. But he didn’t live here. And Isaac had basically moved out as well. He was probably staying in Allison’s room these days even if Allison wasn’t there anymore.

“All the more reason to ask. That’s commando central,” Stiles said as he let himself into the loft, closing the door behind him. “Though that tank top that barely fits only half counts as decent,” he pointed out before hopping the stairs down to Derek. He didn’t look like he felt entirely right here either, like he was thinking something similar to what Derek was. His eyes lingered on corners of the room before they landed back on Derek. “You should get a new place,” Stiles blurted.

“I was thinking the same thing. What’s up? I just left you.”

Stiles shifted on his feet, one of his endless nervous ticks that Derek picked up on immediately. Somewhere he’d picked up on all of their habits; Stiles’ were just the most obvious. 

“I thought we could work on stuff…”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles just shrugged, not sure what to say otherwise. He considered throwing the younger man out, but something made him change his mind as he pointed towards the table. “Make yourself at home I guess. Pants stay on though.”

“Duh. Pants are on.” Stiles gave Derek a look which was easy to ignore, but it did make him laugh inwardly.

~~~

It was Derek’s fault. Stiles made it about two seconds after the pants conversation before he was thinking about his pants and how uncomfortable they were and Derek’s pants and what was underneath them. Nothing probably. Why was he thinking about that?

His eyes ticked away from the computer to a dark corner of the loft near the stairs where that lesbian, but not really a lesbian, had asked him if he liked guys too. He really hadn’t had an answer for her and if it hadn’t been for an epiphany about something else he’d probably still be stuck in that question. Which probably would have led to thinking about Derek’s pants again. And what was under them. Or not under them. He’s completely the commando type right?

Jesus, his mind was on a freaking loop.

That wasn’t why he was here. It wasn’t even researching what Kate could be either. If he wanted to make out with someone and find out what was under their pants he’d call Malia. They hadn’t had sex yet, but she had it on her mind. He could tell. He was just unsure about if he was right for her or vice versa. Suddenly that had started to matter when less than six months ago that hadn’t mattered at all and he was going to lose it to a friend in her parents’ wine cellar, but then she’d died and while he had no idea where the right for you or wrong for you argument was coming from he took it as Jiminy Cricket giving him a warning to pump the brakes like whoa.

But Derek’s was not where he’d go when he needed that kind of pick me up. No Stiles was here for something other than the Grecian god like arms that he knew could punch through concrete. Or testing possible alternative sexualities he’d googled on the internet. Or Derek’s possible…stop. That wasn’t it. He was here for something else. He just wasn’t sure what it is.

Turning away from what they were reading on the screen, he looked at Derek. “Does it ever go away?” he asked, words tumbling out of him. Derek paused from reading, looking up as if he was unsure of the question, or why Stiles was talking. After a moment though it faded into a look of knowing and he leaned back in the chair. “The guilt or the nightmares?”

Stiles sighed and drug his fingers through his hair. “Both. Though more the guilt. I don’t sleep much.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. “No. It lessens but it’s always there. You constantly feel like you’re trying to make up for something.”

He’d hit the nail on the proverbial head. That was exactly what Stiles was feeling. On a zillion levels. Stiles sighed with his whole body, not able to look Derek in the eye. “You have any luck making up for anything so far?”

Derek went quiet again, looking at his hands then back at Stiles. “Sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I just let other people get hurt.”

“That wasn’t your fault. They weren’t your fault.” Stiles blurted the words before he could think about it, his mind going to a broken Derek on his knees, looking at his hands the exact same way. Just like before Stiles’ hand went out for Derek’s shoulder, touching it lightly.

“Thought you came here for comfort, not the other way around,” Derek said with a dark noise that was almost a laugh.

“I never said that.”

“You’re kind of obvious Stiles. I’ve known you for a while now.” Derek half smiled at Stiles’ shocked face and this time the older man patted his shoulder. Stiles felt caught in the moment, in the lie, which wasn’t really a lie, but Derek just shook his head and closed the laptop. “Stay as long as you want. Couch is yours.”

~~~~~

Derek got it. He got why being alone sucked so much especially when you’re hurting in ways you can’t describe. He got why Stiles would randomly show up every other day or so, loiter on his couch talking on about something that had happened at school that was so insignificant, something that Derek gave absolutely no shit about, but unlike him, Stiles needed to talk. Even if it was about nothing.

The scary times were when he was silent. When Stiles showed up, let himself in and just dropped on the couch. Those were the days that Derek abandoned whatever he might have normally been doing and nudged whatever limbs are in of the way to sit with him. They don’t talk, just shared the same space. There were things starting to build again, things to be worried about or deal with, but in those moments, they just needed the silence.

It didn’t surprise Derek either that Stiles took him up on the couch offer. He was used to hearing the soft tones of Stiles’ voice as he explained to his father why he wouldn’t be coming home, though the first time he stayed he actually told his father exactly where he was. Derek was surprised even though it made sense considering he’d recently gone missing for days on end, but the first night Derek had kept a watch out for the police cruiser outside. It only showed up for a couple of hours.

What did surprise him was the first time he felt an elbow to his back to nudge him over in his bed. He was dead asleep, but it was enough to wake him slightly, feel Stiles crawl into his bed and curl against his back, cheeks wet where he pressed them against Derek’s bare skin. Derek knew he should have stopped him. Turned him right back around for the couch without hesitation. He hadn’t let anyone share his bed like that, not even Isaac who needed it more than anyone else. But there was something about the way Stiles sniffed against his shoulder, snuggled in closer and eventually let his breathing even out that kept Derek from pushing him away.

Only it didn’t stop there. Stiles started coming over most nights, the cruiser passed by the windows just as often and Derek had actually gotten used to leaving space in the bed since he knew Stiles was eventually going to join him. One night Stiles just followed him up the stairs as he went. Derek had flashed him a look, amazed at how bold he seemed, how he still smelled like that girl, but there he was pulling off his shirt, scars showing here and there from what he’d been through over the years, and undoing his jeans, trying hard not to look at Derek as he undid his.

They didn’t say anything, Derek just went to roll over like he always did, back to Stiles, but instead, maybe because he was more awake, Stiles tugged at his arm, pulling him back onto his back. Once Derek wound up where Stiles wanted him, Stiles was tucked under his arm, cheek pressed against his chest, body flush with Derek’s.

Derek was left not at all sure what to do with his arms, or himself in general. He could feel Stiles’ warm breath on his chest, not just hear the beat of his heart but also feel it up against his side. It was pounding slightly, but not quite to racing. “Are we…” Derek ventured slowly. 

“Yes.” 

Derek looked at him, mostly just the top of his head and eventually let his arm drop, holding on to Stiles’ shoulder and squeezing it lightly. This was a thing that was happening he guessed. They weren’t just sharing the space. They were cuddling. Derek turned his head into Stiles’ pressing his nose against Stile’s hair, breathing him in. The scent of the girl had been left on his clothes, but here, here Stiles just smelled like Stiles. He knew that smell so well. He’d been physically closer to Stiles more than anyone else. His room, the pool, Stiles’ car, the police station, his bed. He’d been engulfed in this guy for so long that it was comforting to have him closer. Derek just held Stiles there, making himself be fine with the fact that Stiles’ arm was draped across his stomach and one leg was hooked over his. Sadly it wasn’t that hard of a thing to be fine with. It was simple to be fine with. He was doomed wasn’t he? 

~~~

Stiles woke up tangled in Derek. Literally tangled in him. Arms and legs twisted up in one another. He had to get to school. This was so much better than school though. Infinitely better than school. Derek shifted in his sleep, scruffy chin dragging across Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles was pretty sure he had an answer to that question he’d been asked. He’d probably known the answer all along. He felt that all through his body like lightning. 

Stiles definitely needed to leave. 

He shifted a little, trying to get untangled, but Derek rolled after him, snuggling more, and Stiles hated him. If he blamed this on being a werewolf, Stiles was actually going to tear his hair out. Derek’s hair out. Whatever. Someone’s hair was coming out. Stiles tried again, a little more forcefully this time, which worked to wake Derek up enough and give him a chance to escape as the older guy rubbed at his face. “What time is it?” 

“Early, but I’m still late for school,” Stiles explained, trying to put on his jeans which wasn’t exactly easy considering, but hopefully that would go away provided he didn’t look at Derek too much in his boxers. “Damnit I don’t have time to go home first.” Which meant he was going to wear the same shirt, which Stiles was hesitating on putting on, staring at it while he tried to come up with a viable excuse for wearing the same thing two days in a row. Saying that he’d slept over with Derek wasn’t going to work. 

“Take one of mine,” Derek said, rolling over, sheet falling down around his thighs and leaving a spectacular view of his backside. “But either go or come back to bed. I can feel you staring.” Stiles blinked twice, then turned, trying not to over think that comment or think about the blush creeping onto his cheeks as he dug in Derek’s drawer for a t-shirt and yanked it on then grabbed his hoodie. “I’ll see you later,” he said feeling like he should do more than just leave, but what other option was there? Panicked, he took off down the stairs and out the door. 

~~~~

“Is that your shirt?” 

It would figure that Stiles could pull one over on Scott, but it was hard to pull one over on Lydia. “What? Huh? Yes.” 

Lydia tilted her head and that caught Malia’s attention and she actually took her attention off her food to look at him, wiping her chin on the back of her hand. Lydia handed her a napkin without looking and Stiles was glad that she was helping with the whole socializing her thing. “That’s not your shirt. You don’t do the v-neck thing.” 

Stiles looked down at the shirt, noticing the v-neck in the shirt and wishing he’d looked at it before he’d put it on and left. “Trying a new thing,” Stiles said, not looking at anyone. 

“You’re full of shit,” Lydia said without batting an eye and Malia made a sniffing noise. 

“And you smell like wolf.” She had a pinched look on her face, like she didn’t approve. “Not Scott wolf.” 

“And you didn’t shower.” That was Lydia, giving him a harder stare and instantly Stiles regretted having lunch with them since Scott was with Kira. Their odd almost dating dating thing would have been infinitely better than the Spanish Inquisition over here. 

“It’s nothing,” Stiles tried, actually willing the clock to move to their next class faster so he’d have an excuse to leave. He’d never wished away lunch in his life. 

“You’re seeing someone.” Lydia again, making conclusions, but it was Malia that he looked at first because she spoke before he could counter. 

“What? Who? That’s a guy’s shirt. He’s seeing…” The girl’s voice was panicking, rising in volume and shrillness. 

“I’m not…calm down Malia. Don’t go all crazy on me.” Stiles shot Lydia a look, who just shrugged, but Malia wasn’t having it. She abandoned her tray and started of towards the door mumbling something about the bathroom or whatever. “What the hell Lydia?” 

“You are seeing someone. She should know. She should know you don’t like her really. You like the idea of her, but not her.” Stiles groaned and ran his hands over his face. 

“How long have you known?” 

“Since she started complaining about you being a gentleman. That didn’t quite seem your style.” Lydia gave him a look that said she knew him and he hated that she was right. After years of throwing himself at her, she’d figured him out the moment she took the time to notice him. It was only fair considering he could say the same about her. 

“It’s not really about that. It’s therapy sort of. Only, it’s different and I have no idea what it is, I just like it.” Stiles wasn’t sure how to explain Derek, how to even start, he just knew there needed to be explaining of some sort. 

Lydia tapped a perfectly manicured finger against her lower lip for a moment before nodding. “Fine. But seriously consider keeping a change of clothes in your car or it’s going to be even more obvious you’re sleeping with Derek. It’s blatantly his shirt.” 

“I’m not…fuck.” Stiles dropped his head onto his arms knowing he was caught. And knowing there was no way he could explain it so that it didn’t sound romantic. It practically was. How was he going to explain cuddling and sharing a bed together and all of that without it coming across romantic? And technically he was sleeping with the guy. After a moment he looked back up at her, not sure what to do with himself. “Malia?” 

Lydia just nodded. “I’ll take care of her. You take care of the big bad wolf.” She was teasing and it glinted in her eyes and Stiles gave her a dirty look. That was cheating. That he was sure of. There was a reason why he’d always liked her more than anyone else. She was so like him, just as dangerously smart and sarcastic. 

~~~

When the door to his loft opened midafternoon, Derek was curiously leaning over the railing to the loft, staring at Stiles as he dropped his bag and hoodie in one swoop then fell backwards on the couch. “You’re…early.” He tripped on the words, surprised as he said them that they had an early and late. Stiles usually showed up after dinner but before the ten o’clock news was on and now here he was with the sun still in the sky staring up slightly in Derek’s direction and slightly just at the ceiling. And looking really good and really different in Derek’s shirt. Another surprise. Not that Stiles looked good, but that Derek noticed.

Stiles shrugged and didn’t say anything. It was enough to get Derek to head to the stairs, assuming that being far away wasn’t what the younger man wanted, but just as he started down Stiles spoke. “Lydia thinks we’re sleeping together.”

Derek stopped on the second step from the top, not sure how to go forward with that comment. “Technically we are,” he said after a breath because it was the only thing he could think of that wasn’t a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask or a demand he wasn’t sure he wanted to make.

“Not like that,” Stiles clarified and instead of going down the stairs, Derek just sat down on the top step. He could still see Stiles from where he was, one arm over the back of the couch, the other over his eyes. There was no ignoring the part where he’d spent the first hour after Stiles left wishing he hadn’t or that Derek had just drug him back into bed the moment he hesitated. After that, Derek had spent the rest of the day wondering what came next, what they were or what any of it was. It was all too weird to pinpoint considering they weren’t even around one another all that much. He didn’t know that much about Stiles beyond the obvious or the information he’d gleaned off others. Stiles knew almost nothing of current value about him.

“What did you say?” he started with instead, opening up the floor to Stiles who he guessed would ramble.

“I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t a good way to answer without lying and Lydia’s as good at telling when I’m lying as you are.”

“That’s because you’re not a very good liar.”

“Shut up, I am a great liar. I’ve been lying to my dad for ages.”

“News flash Stiles, your dad rarely believes you unless he desperately wants you to be telling the truth.” Stiles lifted his arm to find Derek and shot him a glare before his arm went back over his eyes again. Derek didn’t quite fight the ghost of a smile that turned the corners of his mouth up a little. “So what are you thinking about it?”

Stiles went silent again, fingers and feet moving as he obviously thought his way through the next answer. Or maybe talked himself into saying it. Derek had a guess that Stiles already knew the answer he just hadn’t asked been asked the question yet.

“I’m thinking it’s technically right.” There was a pause, a tiny bit longer than necessary before Stiles continued. “And that I didn’t hate it. And it makes sense because I showed up to school in a shirt that screams ‘I raided Derek’s closet’ and I have no idea what you’re thinking about it, but you cuddle in your sleep and I feel better here than I do anywhere else these days and oh my god…” Stiles trailed off and pressed both hands over his face with a frustrated groan.

Derek waited a breath to see if he’d start again before getting up and finishing the stairs to get to Stiles. He lifted Stiles by the shirt, cheating and using the werewolf strength thing before slipping under him on the couch and so Stiles’ head rested on his thigh. “Sounds about right.” It was all he said, voice gruff which made him sound angry though he wasn’t. 

Stiles was still, staring up at Derek before turning on his side, curling up a little more, head still resting on Derek’s leg. “You’re like sleeping on a slab of marble you know that right?”

Derek just chuckled, running his fingers through the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck and trying not to think about what the soft sigh that Stiles let out made him think about. Tried not to think about things he shouldn’t think about, not without knowing everything. He knew enough now, but not everything. “Well, if you don’t mind it, I think you should keep doing it.” 

There was a lingering silence between for a long moment, then Stiles shifted, one hand going around Derek’s knee, holding on to him even if he was still facing away. “Okay.” 

~~~~

It kept going for a while. Stiles was over almost every night, ignoring the looks from his father, his friends. Most days he remembered to bring his own things, sometimes he just wore Derek’s shirts without a care because he liked the way Derek looked at him in them. Twice he let Derek pull him back into bed, skipping school and spending most of the day curled against warmth and snoozing. He didn’t need that much sleep, but he needed Derek and if there was an option to keep curling against him, then Stiles was staying. 

Malia had stopped speaking to him. It wasn’t a surprise, but Lydia told him not to worry about it. She wasn’t mad, just embarrassed and she didn’t know what to say considering she hadn’t done the whole socializing thing most of her life. Stiles let it go as best he could though he did drop an apologetic note in her locker, just so she’d know. It wasn’t her. It was him. And the slab of marble-like muscle that was currently tugging at the waistband of his jeans and pulling him back into bed. 

“I’m supposed to be in school,” Stiles reminded him even though he went willingly, letting Derek pull him back into the space curled right next to him. 

“Do you have any tests or anything you’re going to fail if you don’t go?” 

Stiles let out a puff of a sigh and shook his head. “No. Sub in Econ, which means Coach left Independence Day for us to watch, I’m ahead in Calc, and nothing else huge.” Damn Derek and everything bout him that just drew Stiles in completely. 

“Go in after lunch,” Derek suggested, rubbing his nose against Stiles’ jaw, scruff against his neck. Stiles groaned softly and pushed at Derek’s shoulder shoving him back. 

“Don’t do that…you don’t know what that does.” It was making his jeans uncomfortable again and his heart race. 

Derek pulled at his waist, pulling Stiles with him as he rolled on his back. “I know exactly what it does.” 

“Then why are you doing it?” Stiles asked, baffled until he was too close to Derek. Derek was quiet for a moment, almost watching him and Stiles instantly regretted the question. He was just starting to pull back when Derek closed the last of the space between them and kissed him. 

~~~~

Derek was sure it was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. Sure of it. He didn’t know, not really. Sure the physical signs were obvious, the willingness, but he didn’t know if that was something Stiles wanted, something Stiles needed. Derek almost pulled back, pushed Stiles off to school and hoped he didn’t come back when the younger man answered his kiss.

It wasn’t a small kiss, nothing tentative about it. It was as if the moment he realized it was an option Stiles threw his whole self into it, hands into his hair, mouth crushing against his. It was like Derek had opened a floodgate, and all of Stiles was pouring out of it and into his mouth. 

After a moment Derek pushed back, rolling them back over to get some of the control back, needing that control. The kiss broke off and left Stiles flushed, staring up at him, chest heaving, pupils blown from want. Derek smiled down at him, leaning in to kiss him again lighter this time. “Stay until lunch?” he asked again, kissing his jaw, his neck. 

Stiles laughed and Derek felt it as much as he heard it, feeling the younger man tug at his hips to drag him closer. “If you keep doing that I’m dropping out of school.” His neck arched though, giving Derek more space to kiss and drag his tongue across. 

“You can go back at lunch,” Derek said. “But for now you’re mine.” He leaned up to kiss Stiles again, just as hard as before. Stiles made a happy noise, hands twisting in Derek’s hair and Derek was sure this would go on for a while.


End file.
